


One Day at a Time

by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Asthma, Cafes, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Angst, Oneshot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vignettes, Winter Soldier Bucky, nurse!bucky, post-serum Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseEndingParadox/pseuds/Nostalgia-in-Starlight
Summary: Summer is finally here. After 8 months of nonstop hard work, Steve is ready to relax and enjoy life again.-A week in the life of grad student Steve and nurse Bucky.





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> No real plot, just fluff.

_days like this_  
_I wish the sun wouldn’t set_  
_I don’t want to forget_

Summer arrives at the conclusion of the first chapter of a new journey and takes root on a Monday, the first restful one in much too long. It blooms in the faint tendrils of light that seep through gaps in drawn-up blinds and the gentle hum of the AC as it whirs to life in the warm morning. 

Steve blinks awake at the sensation of cool air rustling his hair, eyes bleary and body heavy from sleep. For a moment he’s disoriented, forgetting where he is and what day it is. Then his heart races suddenly at the thought of missed classes and deadlines. Moving on autopilot, he goes to catapult himself out of bed...but is stopped by familiar arms cinching tight around his waist. With his mind still scrambling to catch up on what’s happening, Steve struggles blindly against the hold. He _needs_ to get to -- 

“Shh, Stevie,” a voice murmurs in his ear. “You don’t have anywhere to be. It’s summer.”

Though it takes a moment longer than it probably should, Steve’s brain finally decides to catch up to the moment. His heart pounds hard in his chest. Once. Twice. Summer. Right. “Oh god,” he groans, embarrassed by his near panic attack. He squeezes his eyes shut and rolls to hide his face in the pillow. Behind him, Bucky chuckles in amusement before rolling them so they’re facing each other. Though Steve goes willingly, he still throws a half hearted puch at Bucky’s shoulder in retaliation. 

“Don’t laugh at me, jerk,” he pouts, face hot. 

“I’m not!” Neither his tone nor the shit-eating grin on his face are convincing. Bucky settles on his side and holds out his arms, grinning like a fool all the while. “Come here, punk.” Steve glares, but tucks himself into Bucky’s embrace all the same. He huffs a little to keep up the act, but hides his smile into Bucky’s shoulder when Bucky presses a kiss to the top of his head and pulls him just a little closer. Just as Steve’s letting the residual tension drain from his body, though, Bucky’s alarm goes off on the nightstand, startling them both. Before Steve can react, Bucky reaches over and shuts it off. He doesn’t move to get out of bed. 

“Don’t you have to get ready for work?” Steve asks. He curls a hand around the fabric of Bucky’s shirt, though.

“Ten minutes of cuddling won’t hurt,” Bucky says, voice wry. 

“You’ll be late.” Steve says, just to be the voice of reason despite being more thrilled than he probably should be. They’ve been together for forever, but he still gets giddy sometimes when Bucky dotes on him like this. Not that he admits it out loud of course. Steve likes to pretend he’s not as big of a sap as Bucky is.

“Hush.” Bucky smooths his hand over Steve’s hair, soothing and affectionate. “Go back to sleep, babydoll. It’s too early to be up. You need to make up for all those all nighters.” He’s right. Steve can feel his thoughts slowing, body growing heavy as his mind drifts in a gathering haze. But he tries to fight it. 

“I’m not tired,” he murmurs, but lets his eyes close for a moment. Just for a moment.

~o~

The next time Steve wakes, Bucky is no longer in bed with him and the apartment is quiet. There’s a text on his phone when he rolls over to check, just as he knew there would be.

 **B:** _Have a great day. Love you._

Smiling, Steve types out a quick reply.

_You too. Love you back._

He knows Bucky won’t be checking his phone until lunch break, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Bucky sees the text eventually. Setting his phone aside, Steve takes a few minutes to bask in the relief of not having any due dates to worry about. Stretching languidly in content, he considers his options. It’s strange to not be too busy to have time to himself. All of a sudden there’s all the time he wants and then some. He knows he’ll probably grow bored of all the free time at some point, but for now it’s good. It’s so good.

~o~

When Steve makes it out of the apartment building, the moon is faintly visible in the sky. He pauses on his walk to admire the delicate beauty of it and tries to take a picture on his camera. The image turns out slightly blurry, the moon barely visible, but the blue of the sky is something he’d like to replicate with his paints. Maybe he’ll paint a series of summer scenes for fun. There’s certainly enough inspiration around him to do so. As he walks, Steve snaps pictures of the way the sunlight filters through the leaves of trees towering overhead, the pattern of shadows scattered on the streets, a dog running after its favorite frisbee across a freshly mown lawn, a couple in sunglasses sitting at a street-side cafe. For the first time since moving to the city for school, he sees what people are talking about when they say it’s a good place to live.

~o~

Eventually, Steve finds himself at a small ice cream parlor that he’d been meaning to check out all semester. Though it’s technically still morning, he thinks he deserves a little treat. Besides, it’s hot and he could use a little cooling down after all the aimless wandering in the sun. He orders a little cone of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles and finds a seat at the window so he can watch people as they go about their lives. There’s a brunch place across the street where a large group of elderly friends are laughing merrily over stacks of waffles and plates of eggs benedict. Though it’s a scene Steve has seen countless times, his fingers suddenly itch for his sketchbook. He doesn’t want to trek home for it, though, so he placates himself with a tiny stack of napkins and a pen he borrows from the cashier. With a faint smile on his lips, ice cream in one hand, pen in the other, he sets about capturing the jubilation across the street. This is the life he’d been looking forward to returning to all year.

~o~

Steve loses track of time in the ice cream shop. It isn’t until he’s eaten a small lunch and thought to take a brief glance at his phone that he realizes that Bucky is nearing the end of his shift at the hospital. Elated at the realization, Steve decides to surprise him. It’s close enough of a walk for him to make it in time. He folds up his sketches and tuck them carefully into his pocket before quickly leaving the shop, calling out a thank you to the cashier as he did so.

On his way to the hospital he stops at a Starbucks and picks up a grande iced coffee for Bucky. There’s a small hang up at the counter with a dissatisfied customer so by the time he speed walks into the lobby of the hospital he’s a little out of breath and his hair is windswept and disheveled. There’s no time to fix it in a bathroom, though, so Steve does what he can by running his hand over it in front of his reflection on the elevator doors. He blushes when someone quirks an eyebrow at him and retreats to the side to wait for Bucky to appear. The iced coffee in his hand is making his fingertips numb and he has to resist the urge to press the drink against his too warm face.

The elevator dings several times and lets out a few groups of people before Bucky finally appears. Steve spots him first because he’d been waiting and can’t help but grin at the sight of Bucky in his standard dark blue scrubs, his RN badge attached to the pocket, looking at something on his phone. Steve is so proud of him - not just because Bucky had decided to become a nurse because of him. He’s just so proud of Bucky for doing what he does, for having the compassion and patience to be really good at it too.

As if sensing his presence, Bucky looks up from his phone and locks eyes with Steve. The smile that spreads across his face makes Steve grin even brighter. Even after all the beautiful things he’d come across today, Bucky is still the best looking thing he’s seen all day. His knees feel like jelly when Bucky immediately starts weaving his way through the throng of people to get to him. “This is a nice surprise,” Bucky says when he’s within earshot, then pulls Steve to him in a warm embrace before Steve can respond. Steve melts into him like he always does, huffing a pleased sigh at the contact.

“I brought you coffee,” Steve tells him when they part. His heart flutters when Bucky’s face lights up even more. He laughs when Bucky makes grabby hands at the drink, but hands it over without a fuss. 

“God,” Bucky groans when he’s taken a long sip, “what’d I ever do to deserve you, babydoll?” Steve ducks his head to hide his blush. He always gets flustered whenever Bucky calls him that in public (and Bucky knows it). Peering up through his eyelashes, he finds Bucky looking at him with naked adoration in his eyes. For the millionth time in his life, Steve thinks about how lucky he is. He nudges Bucky’s shoulder with his own instead of answering and Bucky responds by smiling anew and reaching to take his hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Steve knows he’s smiling like a fool when they walk out of the hospital hand in hand, but he doesn’t care. When they get to Bucky’s car Bucky pulls him close and kisses him long and lingering, mouth cold and tasting of coffee. It’s a wonderful start to summer.

~o~


	2. Tuesday

One by one, the street lights lining the streets dim as night transitions into day. In the early hours of the morning, the stars fade away and slowly, slowly the city begins to stir itself awake. There’s a damp heaviness in the air that speaks of coming summer rain, but the minute shifting of grey clouds in the sky indicate it will not last long. Indeed, by the time Steve wakes from a restful sleep, the only signs that it had rained at all are clinging water droplets on the windows and the familiar smell of it in the air. Unlike the day before, there is no panic when he wakes this time. 

Beside him, Bucky is still asleep and Steve can’t help the dopey smile that creeps across his face at the sight. He has the next few days off from work and hadn’t set an alarm. It’s a nice change of pace. Steve is certainly looking forward to both of them having the next couple of days to just be. Quietly so not to disturb Bucky, Steve slips out of bed and decides as his feet touch the plush carpet that Bucky deserves some breakfast in bed. Sometime over the course of the crazy school year, he’d vowed to repay Bucky for all the time Bucky had spent taking care of him when his school work had been all-consuming. Today is as good of a day to start as any.

~o~

“So,” Bucky says later in the day as Steve’s doing the dishes. He wraps his arms around Steve’s waist from behind and plasters himself along his back. “What do you want to do today?” Rinsing off the last plate, Steve considers the question with a soft hum.

“Haven’t really thought about it.” He wipes off his hands and turns in Bucky’s arms so they’re face to face. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“Nah,” Bucky smiles and his eyes twinkle in the way they do before he says something cheesy. As always, the expression makes Steve’s face flush with warmth. “I just want to be with you. Doesn’t matter what we do.” 

Steve huffs fondly. “You’re such a sap, Barnes.”

“Yeah yeah. Takes one to know one, baby.” Steve rolls his eyes but lets Bucky kiss him all soft and gentle and sweet. It feels like they have all the time in the world. The kiss ends all too soon, but only because they’re both smiling too much to do anything about it. Steve gets a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck and holds him close, leaning so their foreheads touch. Bucky’s eyes are more blue today than gray and Steve loves him so much it hurts. 

“There’s a book I’ve been wanting to get,” he says eventually. “We could go to the bookstore? And just sit at a cafe for awhile?” It’s not the most exciting thing, he knows, but it feels like one of those quiet-afternoon-days. 

Bucky presses a fond kiss to his forehead. “Anything you want, Stevie.”

~o~

They decide to take the metro to the bookstore rather than drive. They don’t say it out loud, but Steve knows, for himself at least, that it’s just an excuse to spend as much time as possible walking the streets hand in hand. It’s one of those little things that he treasures above all else, his hand in Bucky’s, Bucky’s hand in his. Despite it being so mundane, so inconsequential, it’s a source of comfort that Steve feels like he’s known all his life. They held hands way before there were any romantic feelings between them. There’s pictures of them holding hands as little kids in both of their moms’ photo albums. There’s half-formed memories in his head of Bucky holding his hand, keeping him grounded during the countless stretches of times he’d drifted in and out of consciousness in a hospital bed. It’s the way they were and the way they are, the way they’ve always been and the way they were always meant to be.

~o~

In between leaving their apartment and getting on the metro, they encounter a small grey cat on the street. Ever the cat person, Bucky spends quite some time trying to coax it closer while they wait for the local animal shelter to come pick it up. Steve laughs at the silly faces that Bucky makes cooing at the cat but makes a mental note to talk about maybe getting one. It’ll be fun to have a pet. He doesn’t think they have time for a dog right now, but a cat is definitely doable. The slightly heartbroken expression Bucky gets when the animal shelter does pick up the grey tabby makes up Steve’s mind. They’re so getting a cat this summer.

~o~

Steve finds the book he wants with relative ease at the bookstore and they find themselves at a quaint little cafe two blocks over. It’s empty except for them, but it suits Steve just fine. He takes some time looking at the paintings by local artists on display while Bucky orders for them from the young barista who looks bored out of her mind. Though his back is turned towards the counter, he knows the exact moment Bucky starts making his way towards him and therefore doesn’t jump when an arm slides around his waist and pulls him close.

“Your stuff is way better than this,” Bucky remarks as he takes in the paintings that Steve had been checking out. 

“Buck!” Steve admonishes, shoving his shoulder. He blushes a little at the implied praise. “That’s rude.”

“What, it’s true!” Bucky insists, pinching his side playfully. Yelping, Steve scrambles away and flings himself at a small table in the corner. Lucky for him, the barista chooses that moment to call out their drinks, effectively preventing Bucky from chasing after him. Steve narrows his eyes when Bucky approaches with their drinks but it seems like their little moment had come and gone. Bucky makes a point of moving the chair opposite him to his side of the table so they can sit side by side and Steve can’t help but smile besottedly at the gesture. Bucky chucks him playfully under the chin, grins, and puts an arm around the back of Steve’s chair. Steve bumps him with a shoulder in silent thanks. Settling into Bucky’s side, he takes a sip of the cold latte and flips his new book to the first page. “Just let me know if you need anything, baby. We can stay here as long as you want.” Bucky says as he pulls out his iPad and taps to find the TV shows he’d downloaded earlier.

Steve looks up from his book right before Bucky puts in his headphones and can’t help but stare a little, eyes a tiny bit (just a tiny bit!) wet. “Love you, Buck,” he says quietly. He thinks his heart might burst. He thinks he must be living some kind of dream.

~o~

He gets lost in the book. It’s already dark by the time they decide to get some dinner and head home. Steve isn’t usually the kind of person to do so, but he finds himself reading as they’re waiting for the take out and reading while they’re on the metro. He hopes Bucky doesn’t mind too much. It feels rude, but he just can’t stop. The metro is overcrowded on the way home and somebody’s music is way too loud and audible through their headphones in the otherwise quiet train car. Steve tries to hang on to the railings with one hand while holding his book with the other, and definitely stumbles a couple times when the train rocks a little more than the norm. Bucky laughs at him from where he’s standing with his back against the wall and Steve sticks out his tongue like a child.

“Come here,” Bucky says, pulling him close and wrapping a secure arm around him. “Just lean into me. I’ll keep you steady.” 

“You’re unreal,” Steve tells him, but does as he’s told. “I must’ve done something really good in my past life.”

Bucky squeezes him a little, pressing a smile into his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Read your book, Rogers.”

~o~


	3. Wednesday

There’s a set of pastel highlighters arrayed across the kitchen counter when Steve returns from his run, out of breath and melting around the edges. He quirks an eyebrow at the display but decides a cold bottle of water is way more important at the moment. Leaning back against the fridge, eyes closed, he gulps down the water like a dying man, reveling in the immediate coolness that spreads through his body. It takes a few more minutes before he gets his breathing back to normal, and by then, the bottle of water in his hand is empty. 

Opening his eyes, Steve follows the arrangement of highlighters to the calendar hanging on the wall. The corner of his lips turn up into a smile at the myriad of colors streaked across the page. Bucky likes to keep track of important dates and make notes with colorful little doodles. It’s something he started doing when Steve had to spend long stretches of time in the hospital trying to recover from one illness after the next. He’d bring Steve a new calendar and a pack of markers every time Steve’s recovery time was uncertain and sit with him while they filled up the blank squares with plans for when Steve got out of the hospital. On the days where Steve was too sick to contribute, Bucky would doodle little mementos about the day so he wouldn’t miss out on the good parts. Pictures were easier than words on the bad days...and they always made Steve smile.

Steve flips through the calendar and rolls his eyes fondly at the excessively colorful square marking his birthday. Bucky’s gotten better at drawing over the years, but the fondness behind them has never changed. He lets the calendar fall back to the current month and sees a tiny star next to the date for Sunday. Leaning in to get a closer look, Steve furrows his brows and tries to remember if they have any plans for Sunday. 

Then, as it’s often the case with his life, his half formed thought is suddenly interrupted by a loud holler and a body slamming into his back. “Boo!” Despite himself, Steve jumps and utters an undignified yelp. There’s immediate laughter behind him and Steve rolls his eyes. “Got ya!” Bucky crows when Steve whirls around to face him.

“You jerk!”

Bucky laughs some more, face open and happy. Steve huffs loudly and rolls his eyes again, but a moment later he’s grinning. He can’t help it. Bucky’s happiness has always been a contagious thing. 

“What’s that little star on Sunday?” Steve asks casually when he skirts around Bucky to make himself a snack. Bucky doesn’t answer right away and when Steve glances back, he finds him looking a little skittish.

“Oh, it’s nothing important,” Bucky says when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Just something for work.” Though his tone is casual, he’s looking everywhere but directly at Steve. 

“On a Sunday?” 

“Yeah. It’s an online thing.” When Steve continues to look at him, Bucky pushes his hair back and licks his lips. It’s something he does a lot when he’s nervous. It’s obvious that he’s not telling the truth. He finally looks at Steve a couple seconds later, though, and when he does, he visibly quells the nervousness. “Don’t worry about it, Stevie,” Bucky says, moving close and pulling Steve into a kiss before Steve has the chance to respond. Though Steve knows he’s doing it to change the topic, he kisses back all the same. He trusts Bucky to tell him if it’s something important.

~o~

Later that evening, they meet up with a group of their friends at a local bar they frequent. They’re mostly people Bucky knows from work. The few friends that Steve’s made through graduate school so far have already left town for the summer. It’s nice, being able to hang out with their friends without having to worry about school work in the back of his mind. By the time a second round of drinks is on the table, Steve’s face is aching from smiling so hard and a pleasant buzz is prickling beneath his skin.

“Man, it’s nice to know that you’re more than just a ball of stress, Steve,” Sam Wilson remarks from across the table, smirking when Steve sputters a little. He’s a paramedic at the hospital and Steve’s occasional running partner (when he can keep up).

“Oh is that how it is, Wilson?” Steve says, puffing up indignantly and leveling a playful glare at Sam. He gestures vaguely at the half empty beer glass in Sam’s hand and drains his own glass with a cheeky smirk of his own. “It’s nice to know that you’re still a slowpoke even when you don’t have to do any running.” Sam’s mouth drops open at the same time that Bucky’s loud laughter rings out over the group. 

“Wilson!” Bucky guffaws, slapping the table. Steve grins smugly next to him, proud of himself. “You just got owned!” Sam crosses his arms over his chest and gives them both an unimpressed look. 

“Your boy is a little shit, Barnes,” Sam snorts, the corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s trying not to smile.

“Yep,” Bucky nods, proud like a little kid showing off his favorite toy. He grins sideways at Steve and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “My favorite little shit.” Steve rolls his eyes fondly and blushes when Sam makes gagging noises at them. Lucky for him, it’s pretty dark in the bar so no one can tell. 

“You two are disgusting,” Sam gripes good naturedly. “You’ve been together for how long? And you still act like teenagers in love.”

“You’re just jealous, Sam,” Steve says, cheeky, letting himself press closer to Bucky’s side.

Sam gives him another unimpressed look, but then his eyes gleam a little when he looks between them. “So, Barnes,” he begins and Steve feels Bucky tense beside him. “When -”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Bucky says quickly before Sam can say anything else. Steve frowns at the exchange, but Sam is grinning wolfishly at Bucky’s outburst. There’s an awkward beat of silence before Bucky is standing up. “I’m gonna go get us another round.” He drops a quick kiss to the top of Steve’s head before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Uh, what was that,” Steve asks. Sam is still grinning and shaking his head. 

“Just messing with him,” Sam says. Steve narrows his eyes at him but Sam mimes zipping his lips and pointedly turns away to engage with the rest of their friends. Bucky returns moments later with the drinks and by the end of the night, Steve has forgotten the odd little moment between them.

~o~


	4. Thursday

The day starts out sunny but devolves into a blustering summer downpour without warning by late afternoon. Lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating dense storm clouds in brilliant flashes of light while high winds whip around corners and howl against their obstacles. Inside, where it’s dry and peaceful, Steve spends only a cursory moment to marvel at the violence of the storm before turning back to the stack of old books and pile of wrapping supplies in front of him. He takes a second to deliberate the choices, but settles for a simple but beautiful design. 

Footsteps behind him alert him to Bucky’s presence but Steve doesn’t really acknowledge him until a warm hand on his shoulder makes him look up. Bucky’s expression is nothing but fond, infusing Steve with a pure, undiluted sense of warmth and happiness that he’s so lucky to have experienced many times in his life. “What are you up to?” Bucky asks, indicating the mess on the coffee table.

“Just putting together a present for Becca’s birthday,” Steve shrugs. Bucky’s little sister is turning twenty-four in a few weeks and for as long as Steve’s known her (since she was just two years old), she’s always had a love for antiquated things. 

“Yeah?” Bucky carefully picks up a few of the books and leafs through them curiously. “You’ve really gone out of your way this time, Stevie. Where’d you find these? When’d you even have the time?” 

Steve shrugs again, smiling as he turns picks one of them up to wrap it. “I have my ways.” He flicks his gaze up to see Bucky pouting at him but doesn’t offer anything else.

“Ah,” Bucky sighs good naturedly, “playing coy are we?”

“Maybe.” Bucky shoves his shoulder playfully but plops down to sit next to Steve on the floor. He picks up another one of the books, holding it in his hands as if it were a treasured thing. 

“She’s going to love these,” he says softly and turns slightly to press a kiss to Steve’s shoulder. “Thanks, baby.” 

Blushing a little at the praise, Steve ducks his head and shrugs again. “It’s nothing. It’s not every day your favorite little sister turns twenty four, Buck.”

“I don’t have favorites!” Bucky protests, pretending to be indignant, but he can’t hide the quirk of his mouth. Steve laughs and shoves at him. They both know he’s lying. “She’s your sister too.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at that. All of Bucky’s siblings are like siblings to him, but neither of them have ever stated it so directly. A myriad of emotions flit across Bucky’s face - happiness, surprise, fondness, uncertainty, embarrassment - before he shifts his gaze away. “Buck -”

“I meant,” Bucky says, cutting him off, “she’s like your sister too.” He’s nervous again like he was the day before when Steve had asked him about the little star on the calendar. Any other time, Steve would’ve teased him for making such an obvious statement, but he has no idea why Bucky is so on edge. A tiny inkling of unease settles in his stomach, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He puts a hand on Bucky’s knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Buck, I know.” 

Bucky’s eyes flick to him briefly before darting away again. He offers an attempt at a smile before jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Want anything?” It’s obvious he’s trying to change the topic yet again. 

“Sure. whatever you’re having,” Steve says, almost on autopilot. He frowns a little in concern when Bucky quickly retreats towards the kitchen, but doesn’t call after him. He still trusts Bucky to tell him if something really wrong. The unease in his belly flares slightly, but ebbs when Bucky comes back moments later, two glasses of sparkling water in his hands and nothing in his body language that suggests he had been flighty earlier. Steve accepts the glass from him without comment, but presses extra close when Bucky settles down next to him again. Bucky wraps an arm around him in return, and they sit together for a long minute in silence, finding comfort in each other’s presence. It’s good. They’re ok. They spend the rest of the afternoon wrapping Becca’s gift together in companionable silence, the downpour outside a soothing background of white noise.

~o~

“Remember that time we were caught outside in a storm like this?” Bucky asks later that day. He’s standing at the sliding door that leads to their balcony, peering out at the ongoing storm.

Steve looks up from the dinner that he’s preparing for them and can’t help but swoon a little at how handsome Bucky looks framed by the weak light of day turning into night. The silhouette of him is so familiar, so dear, and Steve never wants to experience a day where he doesn’t recognize the shape of him.

“I remember it was your fault,” Steve teases. “And that I was super sick the next week.” 

Bucky gives him a long suffering look for that. “Way to only remember the bad parts.” He turns to look outside again but Steve catches his smile before it’s out of view. Smiling to himself, he finishes getting their dinner ready and moves to join Bucky at the door. 

“I’d always wondered what it’d be like to be kissed in the rain,” he comments wryly, remembering how Bucky had done just that. He wrinkles his nose at the memory. “It was too wet though.” Bucky laughs at that.

“Sorry to break it to you, baby, but that’s what rain is. Wet.” Laughing again and ignoring Steve’s turn at leveling an unimpressed glare, he pulls open the glass door and steps out onto the balcony, letting the roar of the rainstorm into the quiet of their apartment. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, mouth quirking up into a smile of his own.

Half turning, Bucky looks back at him and holds out a hand. “You’re telling me your first kiss in the rain wasn’t romantic enough because it was too wet,” he says, grinning like a fool. “So I’m fixing it.”

“Oh my god.” Steve shakes his head in disbelief, but he’s grinning, too. Face red, he takes Bucky’s hand and lets himself be towed onto the slightly damp balcony, lets himself get wrapped up in Bucky’s arms so they’re standing face to face. Bucky’s eyes are gray like the sky today, but they shine so bright Steve can’t help but stare. He’s so beautiful it makes something deep within him ache. They get stuck like that, just for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes in the middle of a downpour, the roof overhead allowing only a fine mist to wet their skin. 

“Come here,” Bucky says finally, soft, a gentle hand on Steve’s face as they both lean in and Steve’s heart is beating so loud it drowns out the rain. It’s cheesy and silly, but it’s… _them_.

~o~


End file.
